Queen of the Southern Blues
by VioletPetalsLitterTheGround
Summary: Some things aren't what they seem.  And then again, some things are exactly what they seem but you're just too stupid and naive to notice.  Enter my world.
1. Prologue

**Queen of the Southern Blues**

_Prologue_

xxxx

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly; to just jump up into the sky and never have to come back down? To feel the wind sweetly brushing over your body, like a lover's caress, or to be alongside a hawk or falcon while they soared above the world. Above life, and all the problems it held?

I used to wonder if I could go so high that I could touch the blue, or float to the sun. For awhile, I did get to. Touch the sky that is; to feel so light that nothing would ever bring me down. And then reality set in, and I hit the ground. Hard.

Naivety and innocence. Two things that I've lost in the big mess, and the only thing I have left it my name. No, not even that. I have nothing: no friends, no home, no one who will even smile at me. No one who trusts or believes me. And it's all my fault...

"How can you just go to them, Grace? How can you just betray us? Betray _me_?" He never called me Grace, except for once, and that was when he was angry; and he was angry, so so angry. The rage was barely contained in his eyes, those black, black eyes- and I knew who he was mad at. Me. I hurt _him_; had his heart in my palm and then squeezed it. He gave me what he could give no one else, knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. Then I blocked him out; cut him off slowly like everyone else. I didn't want to hurt _him_. Not any of them. But I had no other choice; I still don't have a choice. Couldn't they see?

I had did this for them, so they wouldn't have to suffer like I did. Wouldn't have to see what I've seen.

A shudder went down my spine, rain falling from the sky in thick, stinging sheets. It hit the asphalt and splattered in the puddles that had already formed, and the wind howled through the sky like a Blue Grass song.

_Bayo, baby, baby_

_Hush, now baby, baby_

_Sleep now, baby baby_

_And you'll dream of being queen on the bayou_

_Baby, baby_

_Bayo, baby_

_Sleep now, baby, baby_

Tears stung my eyes as I stared at _him_, mixing with the rain soaking through my hair and clothes. They were all staring at me- most void of emotions, staring blankly. I could barely make out those that I knew through the dimming light of the sky; color had been washed out, and in its place stood black and white. A cold hand was resting on my neck, lightly brushing my skin with long claws, cold with a steel-like touch.

"Now boy, Gracie-girrrrl isn't betraying you, she's just choossssing a better option. She knows who her real frrriends are," the creature hissed at _him_, brushing a limp piece of hair away from my neck, to tap against my necklace. _His_ fists clenched, his body flickering in my vision, true form peeking through like a gray shadow. Fear tickled at my nerves, feather-soft, but still there.

"Now, if you would excusssse us, boy, we have the Knowing to find." The claws clenched around my arm, beginning to pull me back and away from them. From my second family. From him. From the center of my lopsided, and off-track world.

Yeah, I had been soaring through a clear sky yesterday, but now I had crashed on enemy territory and a hurricane was on the horizon.

xxxx

_If there was a way... I'd take your hurt, and carry it for you._

Raven, The Raging Quiet

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Disclaimer: All fictional characters and settings are of the author's imagination. Plot belongs to the author. Any relations to real people is pure coincidence. Places and objects not of the author's imagination belong to their respective owners.

_Teehee._

_This is my first attempt at a more serious story. I have the plot planned and everything. If you'd like to read more, leave a review. Pretty please? I'd like to know if people want to read this. I'll put chapters up anyway, but still. Ya know? Obviously, future chapters will be longer. _

_Now, let's see how this goes. :)  
_

xoxo


	2. Louisiana Sunshine

**Queen of the Southern Blues**

_Chapter 1: Louisiana Sunshine_

_Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly; to just jump up into the sky and never have to come back down? I used to... And then reality set in, and I hit the ground. Hard. A love story. _

xxxx

I've always loved the morning, birds chirping, as if welcoming me into their space. Little, beady eyes turned to stare at me, beak opened in a cry; like **hello** in another language. The camera in my hands was old; older than me. I think it was my Grammy's when she was here. All I had to do was get a good shot of a squirrel, and I'd have a passing grade in art. How can anyone fail art? Good question. I don't know why I even signed up for the class. The teacher was bogus and so were her assignments, but I needed my credit.

And then, there it was, the fat, old squirrel that was always in our bird feeder. He was climbing down his tree, though he stopped, fluffy tail waving in the air. Yesterday, I had sat outside, in the early morning, waiting for him to come out of his hole. And guess what? He never did.

"Come on, just a little more..." I coaxed in a soft whisper. I think he must have heard me, because he climbed the rest of the way down, and hopped onto the ground. He stared at me, standing up on his hind-legs, then...

_Click._

"Gotcha." I smiled at the sky, happy that I had finally accomplished an agonizing feat. The art thing? Well, let's just say that I couldn't draw to save my life, and that seemed to actually be a requirement. Swinging the camera onto my shoulder, I sat down in the dewy grass, pulling up a few of the green strands. It was so peaceful, and almost warm enough to walk around in shorts again. Louisiana weather was very unpredictable: one day it would be warm and sunny, making you want to jump in the nearest pool, and the next, it would be cold and gray, giving everyone the sniffles.

The trees overhead groaned and moved in the soft wind, the creaks of their branches making eery sounds. Something red flickered in the corner of my eye, and I looked towards it quickly, only to suddenly become dizzy. Sitting down on the ground, I rubbed my temples.

"Gracelynn! You better get your butt in this house right now!" a voice yelled at me. Oh, right. I had forgotten what time it was. I stood and brushed the dirt off of my church dress hurriedly, and saw Mama waving at me frantically from the porch. "We're gonna be late honey, hurry up!" I almost laughed at her, the corners of my mouth twitching upwards as I trotted barefoot to the porch. Her hair was still in the rollers, make-up smeared, and dress hanging off her shoulder. The steps leading up to our porch creaked as I stepped on them, and was rough from the many years of rugged weather. Mamma told me one time that they were older than me and her combined. Probably older than Papa, too.

"Come on! We have to go! Now. And we're going to your granddaddy's after," Mamma was shooing her hand at me as I passed, and scowled after I mock saluted her. "Get your shoes on! We're almost late!" Mamma doesn't have a really loud voice, even if she yelled, it would be wispy and soft; guess that's where I get it from. My voice, I mean.

Scurrying inside the back door, I ran down the hall to my room, almost slipping on the tiled floors in the kitchen. Staring at me feet as I sprinted to my room, I slammed smack into a person. And how do I know that, you may ask. Well, that's a simple question.

"Crap! What was that for, Egghead?" he asked me. The he, being my older brother, Wesley. He's in college, so he thinks he's all that and a bag of chips, plus he's in a band. He has a big ego, too, and can be rude in the mornings. Well, more than rude. And no one is able to understand him half the time- I guess that's why his last girlfriend dumped him...

"Egghead? Egghead? That's real mature, doofus," I muttered, slipping around him to go into my room. I mean, seriously. Egghead? There's got to be a Name-calling Book For Dummies, somewhere.

"Doofus? Doofus? Real mature, Gracie-lynn!" he called back, mocking me and I stuck my tongue at my door, though he couldn't see me.

It didn't take me long to find a pair of flip-flops and put the camera away. As I walked back into the hall, I saw Wes walking to his room.

"You riding with us?" I questioned him, slipping my flip on, then my flop.

"Nah, I'll catch a ride with Tabby," he called over his shoulder. By the time I got to the front door, Mamma was honking the horn. Rolling my eyes skyward, I sighed. She was more impatient than Papa.

xxxx

The service was was wonderful at church; the message was alright and the music was mostly from the old hymnals, but the ending was the best. All the children came out of the back, carrying pictures that they all colored. Together, and more than a little off-key, they sang 'Jesus Loves Me.' It was the most adorable thing I've ever seen, and not just because my little sisters were up there. After their little concert, the kids got to go to their parents and give them their picture. Anne-Marie helped Lily bring Mamma the picture she colored, before church was dismissed. Wes, my older brother, wasn't at church. Smiling to myself, I turned and got in the car with the rest of my family. He sure would get it later. I would make sure of it.

The ride to Papa's was boring, for me. My little sisters sure were having fun though, from the way they fought the whole dang time. Mamma didn't even try to stop them; it wouldn't have worked anyway.

"Lily-Gale, you better give me back my Hannah Montana doll right now!" Anne-Marie shouted loudly; I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw her pointing at my youngest sister accusingly. Lily was smiling sweetly, playing with the doll. She handed Anne-Marie one of her dolls.

"We can trade, Annie," she said sweetly, talking in that adorable 'little kid' voice. Her eyes were round and pleading. At long last, I heard Anne-Marie huff.

"Okay. But don't mess up her hair." It was so simple how they resolved their little spats. It was funny, too. Smiling to myself, I turned to the window, watching as the trees seemed to fly by.

It only took an hour to get to Papa's. He lived out in the country, all by himself on his small farm. Grammy passed away a few years ago, and he refuses to leave his home, even though Mama feels that it would be better if he moved closer. In case something bad happens, is her usual explanation, when all she really wants is to stop wasting so much gas.

Running up the porch steps, I rapped on the door a few times with my knuckles, bouncing in place a bit. I love going to my Papa's. He always tells me a new story, or shows me an old antique, claiming how he got it with outrageous detail.

I heard nothing from inside the house, so I knocked again. Nothing. Raising my fist against the wood, I tapped three times, before a loud banging echoed from behind the door. Mamma was just walking up the steps with the girls, and her face looked worried at the noise.

"Hold it, hold your horses! I'm comin'!--Ya theivin' rascals, get outta my house!" Oh. The raccoons must've got in through the window again... That's what he gets for leaving them open at night.

"Is he alright?" Mamma asked from behind me.

"Yeah, it's just that the raccoons"- I began.

"They got in again? I wanna see 'em!" Lily said, smiling with excitement. The door opened before she could go on a raccoon rampage, and there Papa stood.

"Well, now. What're you yellow-bellied varmints doin' at my doorstep on a Monday afternoon?" he questioned, gray mustache twitching as he talked.

"Hoping you cooked lunch, because it's Sunday!" Mamma said, laughing.

"Sunday? Sunday? Really, now. That changes things!" he chuckled deeply, moving back in his house. We followed, of course, like sheep. Papa's house is really old-looking, with wood paneling on the inside, and yellow-tiled floors; he even had orange shag carpet. Pictures dotted the walls: old, graying ones, as well as colorful new photos. One was of me and Wes, making mud pies when we were younger, with Grammy standing behind us, her own dress caked in it. Another was of Grammy with me on her lap and Papa smiling next to her. Papa's house had that feel to it; old and comfortable and welcoming, even if it was outdated; his knick-knacks lined shelves around the house.

I settled down on his couch, sinking into the old cushions, while simultaneously kicking off my high heels. Most of his furniture was ancient and tattered. Papa sat down in his rocking chair, one he claimed to have made himself, while Mama and my sisters sat on one of the more intact sofas. My stomach growled like a lion, and Anne-Marie giggled loudly.

"Now, I have a nice pot 'o gumbo cookin', if y'all want some?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and gesturing to his kitchen. Lily and Anne-Marie bounced up from where they were sitting and raced to the kitchen, arguing over what bowls they would get. "Gracelynn, don't go just yet; let me show ya sumthin before them two hooligans come back." He gestured for me to follow him down the hall to his study, just as I was about to go in the kitchen. My stomach grumbled in protest, but nevertheless, I followed.

"Papa, if it's your old fishing trophies, I saw them a million and one times, you know," I said loudly as I opened the door to his study, seeing him digging around.

"Now, I put it here somewhere," he grumbled as he dug in the drawer of his desk. I stepped closer, bare feet sinking into the shag carpet, and looked around. His study was empty, save for the red-wood desk and three shelves filled with trophies. Most were from fishing competitions, but one or two was a cooking award. "Aha, got it!"

Now, your Gram's didn't want me to give this to you until your seventeenth birthday, but I figured I'd forget about it later anyway. It's been in the family for generations; Gram's mama gave it to her, and her mamma gave it to her, and so on and so on." In front of my eyes dangled a necklace. From the leather line hung a copper design, shaped into a heart; amber stones were in-laid into it in no specific pattern, while small lettering was engraved at the bottom.

"It' beautiful," I breathed, smiling up at him as he helped me put it on. Simple, yet elegant.

"She wrote something, too. I never opened it." In my hands was a large, yellowed envelope, thick with writing inside. I hugged Papa around his neck and kissed his cheek.

"I'll read it later," I promised, before my stomach growled again. "Let's go eat."

Glancing towards the small window in his study, I thought I saw a flash of red again. I crossed the few meters to look out the window easily, and saw nothing but forest. A pounding became apparent behind my eyes and I ignored it. Just another headache, anyway.

xxxx

_When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves._

Victor Frankl

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	3. Cypress Knees

**Queen of the Southern Blues**

_Cypress Knees_

_Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly; to just jump up into the sky and never have to come back down? I used to... And then reality set in, and I hit the ground. Hard. A love story. _

xxxx

"Time to see your improvement this past year, ladies! I want four laps around the track, in under ten minutes! Grab a partner and get going! Hop to it!" Ms. Lane hollered at us as we filed outside one by one. This was my first hour- Physical Education. Lovely, right? Going outside on a foggy morning, with highly humid, warm air did wonders on the hair, ya know, and our gym clothes were the fashion of the season-- loose black shorts and equally loose gray shirts. Made your figure look ten times better.

Just as I was walking out the gym doors my arm was snagged by another, and I stumbled backwards, smacking hard into someone with fluffy red hair. My foot caught behind her's, for I knew who it was, and I was thrown off balance. We both fell gracelessly to floor in a heap of arms and legs.

"Grace! Really, you're completely Grace-less?" I heard her say from under me as she giggled at her own pun, and I grunted, heaving myself to my feet and rubbing a forming bruise on my arm. I smiled a bit sheepishly as she snorted.

"Sorry Elle," I mumbled, helping her up. We both went to the track, easily slipping into a rhythm of jogging. Elle has been my best friend since third grade; Mamma says we're joined at the hip. Her full name is Elloise Renay Mitchells; we were coloring in third grade and I didn't have any crayons, so she shared with me. That's how it started.

"It's alright," she told me, patting my arm as our feet slapped against the pavement. "So, I heard Marcy and James broke up right before the tardy bell this morning; everyone was late to class because they were watching. I heard she even slapped him!" Elle's my friend, but she is a bit of a gossiper. All she does is talk about what's been happening; that, or her boyfriend Thomas. "I would never slap Thomas if I broke up with him, which I never will! He brought me flowers last night when he picked me up to go to his house! He's so thoughtful!"

I tuned her out for a few seconds, because I knew all she was going to talk about was Thomas. How he was so handsome and popular, and she couldn't believe what a good kisser he was, and how good he was in bed. I had heard it all; every detail. Trust me when I say that I could live without it.

"So, I heard Anthony Wickers was talking about you!" she squealed, pulling me from my thoughts. "He said you're cute, and he would totally tap that!" A goofy smile spread across my lips. Anthony was an actor, a very cute actor. He had bright blonde hair and soft brown eyes, plus he was just my height. Perfect. I've never really talked to him, but he looked at me every now and then. He was smart, too. "Earth to Grace! This is 401, with backup!" Elle said loudly, shaking my shoulder a bit.

"Sorry, Elle," I mumbled as a blush heated up my pale cheeks.

"It's alright," was her reply.

We were just now passing the bleachers, which was the half-way point of the track, and I looked up, seeing a flash of red. My vision seemed to blur and flicker and I stumbled, though Elle grabbed my arm at the last second. Blood pounded behind my ears and I was breathing in gasps and pants. Everything sounded funny, as if through water, though soon it faded.

"Gracelynn, are you okay? Should I call the teacher? Do you need the nurse?" she shot off hurriedly, looking at me with worried gray eyes.

"Fine. I'm fine. Just a headache."

xxxx

The rest of the school day passed easily. Teachers ran around trying to pass their worst students, while the students themselves could care less. School was ending in two months, and everyone was counting down until summer. All in all, my day was fun and simple, at least until the end of Algebra. Miss Kay held me back for thirty seconds, telling me I needed to bring up my grade.

That's why I was now racing down the halls to reach my locker; I stumbled into a group of people and apologized before hurrying along. It took me five minutes to get all the way across the school to my destination, and I was out of breath.

"Come on, come on," I mumbled under my breath as I began to put in the combination for my lock.

15...2...0...21...30! _Click!_

"Yes Finally!" I rejoiced, opening up the gray door.

_Rrrrrrrrrrng. Rrrrrrrng._

"Aw, crap!" And I thought I would be just on time. I was definitely in for it. Pulling out my folder with the developed photos, I slammed my locker and skidded off to art. Room 304... 303... 301...

Double crap. I backtracked quickly and stood before room 303, lair of the Great Vicious Bellvue. Opening the door with a creak, I tip-toed in, turning around to close the door gently. Maybe she wouldn't notice, and I would get away with this. She might not have taken roll yet...

"Ms. Carrand, just in time!" a joyful voice greeted me, and I frowned inwardly while cringing. Bellvue was never happy and nothing was ever good enough for her, so why was she talking like that? She would usually yell at me to get my rear to a table. She even fussed and frowned when I was early, the witch. "I moved you to sit by Mr. Wakes in the back; hurry and take a seat." I stared at her for a moment and rolled my eyes; good thing she wasn't looking at me. Wakes must've been the new kid that Elle was talking about at lunch.

Walking to the back, I looked up from my feet to see him. My vision blurred suddenly and there was a black monster in his place. The edges of my vision seemed to blacken, like tunnel vision, and I fought against the nausea in my stomach. Closing my eyes tightly, I opened them to find myself staring at the ceiling. I clutched my forehead as pain raced in my skull.

"Ms. Carrand, are you alright?" Bellvue asked, concerned. I couldn't nod or speak, my head hurt so bad. With eyes tightly shut, I felt warm arms help lift me. "Take her to the nurse, Michael."

"No, I'll do it," I didn't recognize that voice, so I knew it was _Mr. Wakes. _I didn't want Michael to bring me anyway; he was a pervert and an idiot. A warm arm went around my waist, the other holding my elbow as I was led out of class, with my eyes still shut.

"Hey, Gracelynn Carrand, right?" that unrecognizable voice said. I peaked open my eyes a fraction of an inch to see that the pain was gone.

"Yeah. Just Grace, though," I mumbled, pulling away from him. I could walk just fine on my own. "Wakes, right?"

"Benjamin Wakes," he corrected me, trailing behind me as I trudged to the nurse's office. "But that's a mouthful. Just Ben." My foot caught on air and I stumbled, and his warm hand grabbed my elbow, steadying me. Grudgingly grateful, I looked up at him and smiled a bit.

"Thanks."

"No prob." His warm, golden eyes matched his grin as he held the door to the nurse's office open. I think I was in trouble, because Benjamin—Just Ben—Wakes was utterly hot.

xxxx

"So, Bellvue must like you." I was sitting in the nurse's office, in one of those rolling chairs, spinning around and around. The nurse had told me to stay in her office for the rest of the hour to let my body cool down. I had a fever of 100.2, and I don't think that's very good. She had let Benjamin stay with me, only after he told her that he was new anyway, and I could 'show him the ropes' before school ended.

"Sure, I guess. She's whack, though." He was sitting on a desk, relaxed and looking very inviting. Biting my lip, I looked away from him. He wasn't really my type anyway—not like I had a type. With dark, caramel colored skin, and black-as-night hair, he would be snatched up by tomorrow. "I walked in and she was yelling at some kid—Monique—I think. But then she saw me and she was all smiles and laughs. She digs me." His teeth flashed white in a smug grin and I coughed, choking on laughter.

"Sure she does, buddy, sure she does." I swung my chair around again, only to get hit in the head with a pen cap. "Hey!"

"You're just jealous because she doesn't like you." My jaw dropped and I stared at him in horror. "Kidding Grace. Just kidding."

"You better be, or I'll let you get lost and trampled in the halls by the student body." Hopping up from my chair, I went to the door and out into the hallway.

"Nurse Vincent said you couldn't leave until the bell," Ben called to me as he followed.

"Well, you wanted me to show you the school!" Yeah, Anthony Wickers had nothing on him.

xxxx

_Rrrrrring. Rrrrrrrring._

Finally. It seemed like I had been walking around with Ben for forever. All we did was walk around the halls and into one or two of the empty classrooms. I had learned that his parents lived house in Oakmeadows, a fancy suburban neighborhood, that he liked the color orange, and lived with his aunt in an apartment. In turn, I had told him a few things about my life, but not much. With a sigh, I headed to the exit of the school, before I smacked my forehead.

"You 'kay Grace?"

"I left my stuff in Bellvue's class," I mumbled against my hand. "See you tomorrow, Ben?" I saw him nod before I began my walk of shame back to art. For some reason, I felt a little uncomfortable with Ben, when I usually wasn't at all okay with hanging around guys. My face lit with a blush as I finally walked into the art room. "I left my stuff in here," I said, softly, to the dinosaur at the desk. She nodded stiffly, while checking papers. I easily found my folder and handed it to Bellvue, before leaving the class with a lighter feeling.

Now all I had to do was find Elle to get a ride home. Tapping my bottom lip, I began to head towards the gym. Thomas would be working out, and Elle was probably watching him while waiting for me. I was just about to open the gym doors when a hand grabbed my shoulder. I yelped and turned around, before breathing out a sigh of relief. Just Thomas.

"Hey, there's a party Friday at my house," he began, a wide grin on his mouth. "You can come if you want; Elly's is."

"Oh, okay?" I stared at him, feeling like an awkward palm-tree as he told me the place and general time.

"Be there," he said with his bright smile, before saying he was late for workouts, and running off.

xxxx

_A snake may speak like a dove, and act like a dove, but it's still a snake._

_Anonymous_


	4. Party on the Pontchartrain

**Queen of the Southern Blues**

_Party on the Pontchartrain_

_Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly; to just jump up into the sky and never have to come back down? I used to... And then reality set in, and I hit the ground. Hard. A love story. _

xxxx

I didn't see Ben for the rest of the week. I mean, he was there at school, everyday, but he just didn't hang around with me anymore after Monday. I don't know why; I hadn't done anything wrong, right? In Art, he didn't look at me; maybe because he was a senior—I know, right? A senior.—and thought he had to look cool. Go ahead, ignore the sophomore. She doesn't matter anyway. Girls fawned over him at lunch, and any other time they could get their grabby hands on him. It usually resulted in one hanging on his arm as she cheekily smirked at her friends. Anyway, getting off-topic here.

So, it's Art, the end of class. The bell's gonna ring any second. Most of the class is already packed, but I'm trying to scribble in the last-minute classwork. He's sitting next to me—Ben—packed and ready to go, like always. Never a word in my direction, never a look. I'm not ugly, am I? I noticed that his ignoring me doesn't bother me. It did at first, but now, it doesn't matter. I guess that's why I was a little surprised when he actually bothered to talk to me.

"Hey, Grace?" His voice startled me and I dropped my pencil to glance at him. A wide, almost apologetic grin was on his face as he shyly looked into my eyes. His golden ones were questioning, and maybe a little confused and frustrated. "What're you doin later?" I ignored him for a second, wondering if I should even bother to reply.

"Party. With Elle," I mumbled, wondering what he was thinking.

"Oh. Too bad, then." He turned away from me, going back to ignoring me. I opened my mouth, then closed it. He turned his face to me, smiling. "In a few weeks me and my friends are going to have a bonfire. Wanna come with?" I almost fell out of my seat from shock; he was talking to me! Maybe he had just been settling in.

"Sure, I guess."

_Rrrrrrring._

"Cool. See ya Monday, Gracie-Girl!" He was almost out of the classroom before I actually stood up from my chair.

"Don't call me that!" I yelled; I could hear his laughter echo down the hall. Secretly, I was happy.

xxxx

"Mamma, I'm going to Elle's house! That okay?" I called down the hall from my room. Mamma was in the kitchen, cooking supper.

"Yeah, that's fine darlin," I heard her call back. Well, I didn't expect that. "I'll leave a key under the mat!"

"Thanks!" I felt kind of guilty lying to her; she would never expect a thing. Shaking my head, I walked outside to see Wes leaning against his car.

"Can you bring me to Elle's?" I asked him, smiling innocently; he wouldn't see past my lies. "Please, please, please?" He seemed to think about it before shrugging.

"I guess—I have practice anyway," he jingled his car keys in his hand before getting in, while I rode shotgun. Wonder why it's called shotgun anyway?

Wes was just backing out of the driveway, when suddenly he slammed on the breaks. What the crap is his problem? Trying to give me whiplash.

"Why'd you lie to Mom?" I stared at him in shock; how had he known? The eavesdropping twit. "Look, I'm not stupid Grace. I know there's a party at what's-his-face's house. And that Elle's his girlfriend. If you're going to Elle's, then that means you're going to the party. You wouldn't just sit in her living room with her parents. It would be awkward." I blinked a few times, amazed that my brother knew all that. "I know you Grace. Just be careful, okay?" I nodded slowly as he continued to drive to Elle's. My heartbeat slowed down as I calmed.

"Thanks Wes," I mumbled, resting my head on my palm and rolling my eyes. At least he cared. Cared enough to probably use this as blackmail material. Yep. Definitely blackmail material.

"No problem, Grace." He winked at that. "Just don't take anything form anyone, unless it's unopened, alright? Stick to water bottles. Don't drink after anyone."

"Sounds easy enough." I could see Elle's house coming up, then Wes turned into her driveway.

"Be careful, Grace," he said as I stepped out the car. "And don't take anything from anyone!" I was just about to say something sarcastic, but he had already driven off. I opened the door to Elle's house and blinked.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" she asked. Elle looked all primped up. Her hair was straightened with her bangs held back with a few black clips. She wore a number '54' football jersey—from Thomas, of course—tied in the front to show off everything below her breasts, with a tiny pair of jean shorts and flip-flops. Mascara was on her eyelashes, making them dark and long(I don't know how she managed to keep it form clumping) with only a scant bit of eyeliner.

"Uhm... Yeah. Yes I am." I looked down at myself. T-shirt. Loose shorts. Tennis shoes. Yep, that's me.

"Can I do your hair at least?" Oh no, here it comes. I never let her dress me up—the last time I did, I looked like a hooker. And it was weird. I fingered my pony-tail and shook my head. "Please?" Grinning at her puppy-dog face, I shook my head again. "Fine," Elle huffed.

So, Anthony Wickers won't be at the party," she began, leading me into the living room. Cue goofy grin. "His sister has ballet recital in Texas, and he's spending the night there with the 'rents. I heard you're friends with Mr. Wakes! You have to introduce me!" How could she change subjects so fast? I could barely keep up!

"Well, we're kind of friends, but not really." I picked at pieces of lint on the couch, thinking of the past week. "I mean, he talks to me and stuff, but I don't think we're at the 'friends' stage yet." I could feel her eyes on me as she looked me over. Please no. She couldn't know.

"You think he's hot stuff, eh?" I blushed bright red as she said that. Elle could be so blunt at times. "Oh, my Gracie-lynn is growing up!" she squealed, launching herself at me in giggles. I laughed outright, feeling the burn in my face fade.

"He's pretty cute," I amended, shrugging.

"I knew it!" she yelled triumphantly. "Now, let's go! We are officially fashionably late!" I rolled my eyes; yeah, Elle cares about the unwritten rules of high school.

So, we went—fashionably late and all.

xxxx

Maybe going to the party wasn't such a good idea. I had never been to one before and it was making me nervous. There were college kids mixed with high school, and I'm sure I saw a middle-schooler or two. I had been knocked down three times already by drunken kids, twice into a group of groping boys, and once into a table. I could already feel the bruise forming on my back. Elle would feel so bad for leaving me; I would make sure of it.

Yeah. She ditched me two minutes after we got here, and I was seething.

It had taken awhile to get to the party on the Pontchartrain. You see, Thomas' parents owned a little cottage-type thing right next to the lake—probably used for family reunions and Superbowl parties. Go Saints!

So, I'm surrounded by a bunch of drunken teens, all alone, in a place I barely even heard of. Sounds good, right? Can't get any worse, right?

Wrong.

I pushed through the crowd of people to get out of the 'house'. The smell of sweat, alcohol and cheap perfume was clogging my senses, and the way these people were dancing was burning my eyes. It was a wonder what beer and hormones could do to the body. Trying to avoid the horny hump-fest, I slipped out the door. I was just getting off the last step of the porch, when there was a flash of something form the corner of my eye.

A wave of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks, causing me to stumble, then fall. I landed on my belly, scraping my knees and hands. Peeling my body off the ground, I managed to crawl to the pick nick table. My brain was trying to bust out of my skull as I hoisted myself onto the seat of the table. Damn all these stupid headaches to crap. I probably had a brain tumor. Or I could be pregnant. That thought alone made me grin through the stinging pain. Yeah, me pregnant. Can you imagine? It's not like I had done the deed yet... Awkward.

"Oh crap! Are you okay Grace?" Elle was shaking my shoulder—great, so now she remembers me. I never even heard her walk up. "I saw you fall! Did you hurt yourself?" I shook my head, not having the energy to say anything. "Do you need something? A doctor? Tylenol?" No. No. Nod. "Oh! I'll get Thomas to get some for you! Thomas!" And then I heard her footsteps retreat. Thank God. She talked too loud and it was making my head hurt worse, if that was even possible.

A few minutes passed, and my brain sickness seemed to fade, though there was a pounding behind my eyes. The beats of the music could be heard from the house, as well as the motors of boats and trucks. My eyes closed and I yawned against my arm.

_Crunch. Crunch. Crunch._

Those were footsteps across random leaves. My eyes opened a crack. There was Thomas, coming along with a bottle of water and a palm opened with two pills. Sitting up, I noticed his flushed face. Drunk, or at least partially anyway, because somehow he still managed to walk straight. I'm surprised Elle wasn't dangling from his arm.

"Here." He dropped the pills on the table, along with the water, before sitting across from me. "Elly wanted me to see if you were lookin' okay. You know, a doctor lives down the road, he could check you out." I knocked back the pills with some of the water, nodding absently. "You look a little pale," he noted. No duh Sherlock. I had almost keeled over on his lawn. "Maybe you should lie down." Another wave of nausea hit me, and I wobbled. Sweaty hands grabbed my shoulders and helped me move to the grass to lie down.

"Thanks," I mumbled, but it came out as 'mfkss.' Through half-lidded eyes, I looked up to see Thomas leering at me. He was kinda cute, in that 'all American' boy kind of way. And he had nice, soft-looking lips...

"Ya know, Grace, without those loose clothes on, I'm sure you'd look just as pretty as Elle," I heard him say, but ignored it. It didn't matter anyway, he was just talking. A numb feeling was spreading from my fingertips, while a buzz set off in my brain. "You're a very pretty girl, ya know." I blinked. When had Thomas moved? He was leaning over me, hands on my waist. It was a pleasant feeling, warm and inviting. His hands inched under my shirt, rubbing against the skin, higher and higher.

Wait, no. This was wrong. Thomas is Elle's boyfriend.

I tried to move my arms to push him off, but they weren't listening to me. They felt numb and tingly. I could barely twitch my fingers. A fog seemed to settle into my mine—I couldn't think straight.

His hands were all over me, trying to yank my clothes off. His lips were on my neck, biting like a rabid animal. Breaking the skin. His hands gripped my arms, and tugged them above my head. I felt utterly helpless.

_Be careful, Grace. And don't take anything from anyone!_

The words echoed in my mind. I had let Thomas down. I hadn't listened to him. A whimper escaped my throat, and I felt a rumble of laughter vibrate against my body.

"Don't worry, Grace, I won't hurt you," Thomas whispered against my skin.

Too late.

I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to see what would happen to me. A shock echoed down my spine as the buzzing in my ears turned into a roar. Then Thomas' weight was gone.

My eyes snapped open when I felt his weight lifted from my body, and the roaring in my ears died down. The meaty thump of a fist meeting flesh repeated over and over and over. But I didn't have the strength to look and see what was happening. There was a gasp and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

Then just the sound of heavy breathing, and the echo of the music.

Shakily, I sat up. It was tough, but I managed. My body was tingling. A nauseous wave hit me again, and I clutched my stomach. I was gonna hurl.

I turned, to where it wouldn't get on me, then it all came out.

I felt disgusting. Dirty. Numb. I could still feel his hands on me. Tears leaked from my eyes as I cried, heaving into the grass.

"Shhhh, shhhhh," a soft voice told me. Someone was holding my hair back from my face. "It's okay now. It's alright." A hand was rubbing my back as I emptied the contents of my stomach, the numbness going along with it. Looks like I puked up the drug.

A napkin was thrust into my face and I wiped my mouth. I felt so hot and sick. Clammy. My hands were shaking. Warm hands picked me up easily, helping me to stand on my own. I could see Thomas. He was lying in the grass, moaning and clutching his nose.

"Th... Thank you," I managed, wiping the tears from my eyes. Whoever it was said nothing, their hand still on my elbow.

"Thomas!" My head snapped towards the voice. Elle was jogging towards Thomas, fury in her eyes. She knelt down next to him, and he hurriedly whispered something into her ear. It was quiet for a few, long seconds, before her eyes met mine. "I can't believe you. You're a freaking slut! First, you try to steal my boyfriend, then you get your man-whore to beat him up when he tries to get away!" Her eyes were tear-filled as she stalked up to me. "I thought we were friends, Gracelynn. I didn't know you were jealous." I didn't even see her hand move, but, man, did I feel it.

_Smack._

Stunned, I raised my hand to my cheek, feeling the sting. She slapped me. My best-friend since third grade slapped me. A whimper escaped my lips, as whispers erupted from the forming crowd. They were talking about me. Laughing at me.

"Don't cry, Gracie," someone said. "I'll bring you home." An arm wrapped around my shoulders, shielding me from the looks and whispers, at least for now. I felt safe.

xxxx

_Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget._

-Anonymous


	5. Wickedly Miffed

**Queen of the Southern Blues**

_Wickedly Miffed_

_Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly; to just jump up into the sky and never have to come back down? I used to... And then reality set in, and I hit the ground. Hard. A vampire-mutt love story. _

xxxx

Recap:

"_Don't cry, Gracie," someone said. "I'll bring you home." An arm wrapped around my shoulders, shielding me from the looks and whispers, at least for now. I felt safe._

I stared across the truck at my savior. He was really quiet.

"My name's Truett," he said during the awkward silence. I jumped in my seat—I hadn't expected him to say a word. His knuckles were white from the pressure he was applying to the steering wheel. There was a bit of dried blood on them, probably from beating the crap out of Thomas...

"Grace."

"I know." He already knew my name, apparently.

I rubbed my wrist and looked out the window, ready to tell him when to turn. I was still shaky, and goosebumps would rise on my skin when I thought about what happened earlier. I can't believe I had been so stupid. And Elle... I couldn't even think about thinking about her. I would tear up every time.

"Turn here," I mumbled, watching as my driveway got closer and closer. Then he was parking into it. I sat still for a few seconds.

"You should report that guy to the police tomorrow," he said lowly. I shook my head.

"No. Elle would hate me more." I didn't need her to hate me more. I just wanted to be her best friend again. I can't believe she believed him over me...

"That girl's your friend? Didn't look like it to me," he grumbled, and I glanced at him. The light from our porch lit up his face. His features were sharp and prominent, almost dramatic with the few shadows cast across them. His incredibly dark eyes turned to look at me. "You don't want that bastard to go and try to rape some other girl, do you?" I flinched, and he must have felt bad, because he looked away.. "Sorry."

"I-it's okay. Thanks," I opened the door hurriedly and got out.

"It was nothin," I barely heard him say as I slammed the door shut. Then the roar of his truck's engine was gone.

Once inside the house, I slipped into the bathroom to look at myself. My hair was a knotted mess. It had come loose from the ponytail. I looked pale, and my eyes were bloodshot. Bruises dotted my arms and waist, and dried blood stained my neck and shirt. Shakily, I touched the bite mark. It was sore.

I hoped it wouldn't scar. Then he would've permanently marked me.

xxxx

"Look, there she is."

"She has balls coming here."

"Did you hear what she did?"

"Slut!"

That's all I heard all day at school Monday. Whispers and rumors. It hurt, but I didn't let them see that it affected me. All through English and Government, the whispers continued. It was wearing me out. I walked down the hallway to my locker, only to see Ben there. The tardy bell had rang a minute earlier, and I wondered what he was doing out of class. He stared at me as I walked up to my locker, eyes flickering from my neck, to my arms. Questions filled his golden eyes.

"I heard rumors"-

"I don't want to talk about it." I opened my locker and placed my things inside. "I'll tell you later, maybe." I began to walk off down the hall, when his hand caught my shoulder.

"Grace, what happened?" He seemed concerned, but I didn't want that.

"You heard the rumors. They aren't true—they're backwards lies. See you later, Benjamin." With that, I walked out of the school.

He didn't follow me.

I hadn't been thinking when I left the school property. I would be in trouble later. Big trouble. I just couldn't take it anymore! I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. The whispers, the threats, the lies. I can't stand people talking behind my back. And to think that Elle had probably started most of it... It hurt.

It hurt so bad. The bruises couldn't compare.

I kicked a pebble, and it bounced across the sidewalk, before landing in the ditch with a _plop_. Unconsciously my feet had led me to a small store. Miss Belle's Lagniappe. (Lonn-Yopp). I smiled a bit and walked inside.

Shelves lined the walls, filled with incense, pottery, silverware, and trinkets. Small, home-made dolls filled up a barrel, each uniquely different, and a few stick horses leaned against it. Hay bales were stacked in a corner, next to the books. They were used for seats, since Miss Belle was typically old-fashioned. A medium sized shelf stood against the wall next to the bales. It was filled with old novels and newer, how-to books, as well as a few bars of all-natural soap. Towards the back of store, five shelves created ten-foot tall aisles. I walked back there and into one of them—a candle aisle.

Cinnamon, pepper-cane, maple-nut and evergreen. The scents filled my lungs as I breathed deeply. It made me more relaxed, and somehow made me forget some of the worries of my day. Blues, greens and reds and yellow. Every color in between. The colors were bright and vibrant, or dark and peaceful. I traced my hand over the variety, and picked up a soft-yellow candle—honeysuckle. It was fresh and sweet. Like a spring breeze in the forest. Yeah, I was going to buy it.

Walking up to the counter, I waited for Miss Belle's to come out. She was usually in the back of her store, where she kept all of her supplies. She should have heard me come in, though. There were a few small silver bells on the door.

"Thanks, Miss Belle. I'll be sure to tell Farrell you said hello."

I recognized that voice.

"It's no problem, dear. Just be careful not to break any of it. I know how you young boys like to run rampant," the old woman replied. I couldn't see them, so they must've been in the back. I waited anxiously to see if they would come to the front. "Now, I have a customer, so if you'd 'scuse me, dear."

She came out of the back without so much as a sound.

Miss Belle is an old woman. I never asked her age, but she seemed so wise. Her hair was salt-and pepper, pulled back into her usual bun, and when she smiled, the crow's feet near her eyes became prominent. She always wears something new. Sometimes it's one of those Japanese kimonos, or a Scottish kilt. I even saw her wearing a Grecian toga before. But today, all she had on was a long, flower-print dress, and was barefoot, as usual.

"Hey Miss Belle," I mumbled as she smiled widely.

"Well, Gracie-lynn, it has been awhile!" she said loudly and I blushed. "Oh that's a lovely necklace!" Her smile quickly turned into a frown. "What happened to your neck?" I think my eyes almost popped out of my head, and I paled. "I have just the thing for it. Wait here."

My hand shot up to cover the mark when she left. I had covered it with makeup. It wasn't all that visible.

A few clangs and crashes made me flinch. She must be looking through her boxes. She never used cardboard. They were always solid wood. I rolled my eyes at the thought. She said wood boxes lasted longer, while most people just threw away cardboard.

I snapped back to the present as I saw something flicker from the doorway, and a roar echoed in my ears. He was carrying a large, wooden box easily in one hand, looking down at where he placed his feet, so as not to trip. Eyes, so dark. Angered. Frustrated. Confused. They held me captive when he glanced up. The roar in my ears grew louder and louder, blocking out all coherent thought, freezing my body in place. Then he looked away.

The sound was gone.

There was a half-smile on his face as he passed me. Not a full smile, but a ghost of one. It made my stomach flip. His hair, such a dark, almost black, red, was in his eyes, and I was amazed he didn't stumble. He didn't so much as look back as he opened the door and went outside. I stared and stared until he went out of my view.

I mentally slapped myself. I probably looked like a big gaping idiot. A big retarded gaping idiot.

When I turned back to the counter, there was Miss Belle. A sly smile was on her lips as she passed a jar over the counter.

"Apply it before you go to sleep for the next two weeks, and you'll be fine. Oh, and the candle's on the house." With a wink, she waddled off to the back of her store.

That woman sure moved fast.

I left the store with a_ ting_ of the bells.

My thoughts were rumpled and mixed up. As if someone had stuffed my brain into a blender and pressed puree.

All I could think about was Truett and his dark eyes. His dark, angry eyes.

xxxx

_To hide the key to your heart is to risk forgetting where you placed it._

-Timothy Childers


	6. What Sharp Teeth

**Queen of the Southern Blues**

_What Sharp Teeth_

_Summary: Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fly; to just jump up into the sky and never have to come back down? I used to... And then reality set in, and I hit the ground. Hard. A love story. _

xxxx

The candle was burning steadily on my dresser, flickering with a soft glow. The sweet scent mixed with the spiciness of the smoke, creating a pleasant smell. I snuggled deeper under my covers, staring at my ceiling. When I was younger, I had hung glowing stars on it to keep away the 'shadow monsters'. I think I had been around five. I didn't remember a lot of things from that age, but one memory stood out from the rest.

_The shadows moved, as if sharp teeth closed in, as I huddled under my mountain of stuffed animals. The trees from outside creaked and screeched in the dark, while thunder boomed like an angry roar. Eyes wide, I stared at my closet—the door was creaking open oh so slowly. Of course, at that age, I thought it was moving. But it had been my imagination. _

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. _The branch against the window had distracted me._

_I had screamed when a bout of lightning struck in the distance, lighting up my room._

_The sound of feet thumping on wood frightened even more, and my door opened, letting a ray of light shine over me._

"_Oh, Grayshine." That was my dad. Lamest nickname in of all history, but it worked then. I had come out of hiding and was staring up at him. I couldn't really remember what my dad looked like now, but he had light colored hair, like mine. "What happened?"_

"_The monsters in the dark were laughing at me!" I remember crying out, and jumping into his arms. I had always felt safe there, even when the shadows still swirled out of my bubble of light._

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"_There are no monsters, Grace. I'll show you." He set me down on my bed carefully, before going to the closet. He opened it in the dark, and nothing grabbed him. _

That's all I really remember about my dad. He left when I was seven, and I never heard from him again. Mom said he was a coward, and couldn't face having a family. I didn't believe her. My daddy had been my hero.

I went over to my desk and blew out my candle, not wanting to burn the house down. Mamma would throw a fit if that happened. Reaching around my neck, I undid the clasp of my necklace, and placed it next to the candle. I hadn't taken it off since Granddaddy gave it to me, except for when I showered.

Elle is never going to forgive me. Not until she breaks up with Thomas, at least. And as far as I know, that'll never happen. She loves him too much to let him go, even after what he tried to do to me. If she knew the whole story, she'd beat the crap out of him. But she wouldn't even listen to me.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

I glanced towards my window, where the offending branch was still smacking against the glass as the wind blew. Even after eleven years, it still wanted to freak me out. I swear, it hates me.

Fog was rolling into the yard at a slow creep, just like every other humid night. It was extremely creepy, and very confusing if you were trying to pass Driver's Ed. I remember when I had taken the course. The fog was thick, and I had almost failed.

Stupid Louisiana weather.

I grabbed a pair of scissors from my desk and walked over to my window. Yeah, looking into the woods, in the middle of the night, with thick fog is really freaky. I opened the stubborn pane, and it came loose with a loud creak, and I grunted. The darn thing was heavy. Once I had made sure it would stay, I leaned out the window.

The familiar dizziness smacked me hard, and my vision flickered between black and white. The scissors slipped from my hand and I tumbled forward, using the window pane as support. My stomach protested against my brain, rolling around inside. I was gonna be sick.

Shakily, I picked up my head and looked out into the woods. But some _thing_ was in my way.

_Schrrrk._

Open-mouthed, I stared at the beastly being before me. The face of a boar, with solid white eyes stared at me. It's mouth was filled with sharp teeth, and tusks stuck out from the side. It's body was a cross between a large cat and a dragon, with a long tail snaking back and forth across the grass. My blood ran cold as it smiled at me, and I did the only thing I could do. I screamed.

xxxx

Or, at least, I would have...

Sharp claws dug into my shoulders as it grabbed me with its hands, shocking me into closing my mouth Seriously, when did it grow arms, let alone hands? It hurt, but I didn't want to scream. It would only make Mamma or Wes come outside, and they would get hurt.

The ground rushed past by eyes as the monster pulled me towards the forest. I kicked and swung wildly, connecting with the fur or muscled flesh of the beast. It didn't seem to notice. My skin caught on twigs and leaves, making small lacerations and major bruising.

"Oh, he'll be so happy, happy, happy," the beast said, the ground seeming to shake with his every word. It stopped in its tracks to look at me. I couldn't tell if it was, but its massive head was pointing in my direction, so I assumed. With a grunt that resembled a laugh, it shook my body. I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw creaked. My bones rattled like a baby's toy.

" He won't mind. No, he won't mind, mind, mind," the beast breathed into my face. A stench of ash and decay swarmed my nostrils, clogging my lungs. I lashed out with my fist, managing to smack it in the face. My hand stung like something terrible, and he growled at me. It's teeth were inches from my nose, when the sound of metal on metal echoed in my ears. Like a _ching_ type of sound. The beast screeched and dropped me on my head, turning around wildly.

"Well, hello beasty," a deep voice slurred lazily from the shadows. I scrambled away from the monster, chest heaving. _Chshiiing._ The monster's face turned to follow me, before he suddenly looked down at his chest. Metal was shining in the moonlight, with crimson etched around it. Without so much as a squeak, the beast was gone, and in his place was a pile of ashes, and a silver, blood covered sword.

Frozen in place, I watched as a man as old as my mother came out of the shadows. He silently picked up his weapon, wiping it in the grass and turned to me. There was a wicked smile on his lips, as he pressed a finger against them.

"Shhhhh." And with that, he had disappeared. Just like the monster.

xxxx

I had to lie to my mother about being outside. I told her I was sleep walking and didn't wake up. I still don't know if she believed me. Her face had been white as a sheet as I walked into the house from the front door. She must have heard the commotion.

It was morning, and I was sore all over. I wasn't going to school. I barely felt like breathing. I couldn't look at my window without freaking out, so I made Wes moved my dresser in front of it. He was confused, but complied anyways.

Everything else was normal. It was like the world didn't care if I was having the worst month of my life. Like I almost hadn't died. Like I hadn't seen something that shouldn't -couldn't- exist.

I'm telling you, it's great to be me. Yes, that was sarcasm. Mom made Wes leave to go to my school an hour ago to get my work.

I didn't want to go back.

I'd rather sit in my room for the rest of my life and mope.

On a lighter note, the bite on my neck is all but gone. I can barely tell that it's there, and it's only been a day since Miss Belle gave me that neck junk.

"Sissy? Can you tell me a story?" That was Lily-Gale. She got to stay with me instead of going to school, the lucky kid.

"Sure." I paused for a moment, giving my mind a few seconds to think up something she'd like. "Once upon a time, in a land called... Uhm... Trojhem, there was princess. Her name was... What do you want her name to be?"

Lily thought for a second, before replying.

"Tina."

"Her name was Tina. She loved going into the lower city with her guards and talk to the people. One day she went to an apple stand and purchased an apple from the woman.

'Please, take my dog, too,' the woman had told Tina. The princess looked at the dog, who was shaggy and black, and more wolf-like than a husky. She took the scraggly mutt anyway and continued along her merry way. She named him Rumplestifus." I was going to name the dog Rumpelstiltskin, but I didn't want to copy someone else's fairy tale.

Lily giggled at the dog's name.

"What next?"

"Well, Tina and Rumplestifus became fast friends, and he followed her everywhere. He was a very sweet dog. Shortly after the princess's birthday, a group of barbarians came and raided their city. They burned down buildings and slowly made their way up to the castle.

'Stifus, take Princess Tina into the forest and keep her safe,' the king told the dog. And he did just that. They ran away from the castle, and some of the robbers chased them straight to the mountains..." I continued on with the story, until Lily was satisfied.

Which resulted in the dog turning into a Prince and marrying the Princess, as well as a very angry mountain giant chasing the robbers away from his mountains.

And, of course, it ended happily ever after.

xxxx

_Silence is golden._

xxxx

**A/N: I really did tell that exact same story to my little sister. She loved it! It was ridiculous and I had fun telling it to her. **

**Is this story confusing anyone? Am I giving any mixed signals? If so, leave a message at the beep, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.**

**:)**


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